


Smiling Curls

by ro_mm_ck



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Crossover, F/M, Fluff, Post War, Post-War, Romance, Schmoop, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity, The Quidditch Pitch: Television
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-29
Updated: 2008-06-29
Packaged: 2018-10-27 10:33:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10807344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ro_mm_ck/pseuds/ro_mm_ck
Summary: Research is hard for Hermione when Spike won't stop smiling at her. BtVS/HP Crossover





	Smiling Curls

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** This is a happy birthday fic for Inell I hope you like it lady. Sorry it's so late.

 

It was the curls. They did it to him every time. She would have her hair up in the bun she adored, hair nearly plastered to her head, and one curl would slip out. It would break free of its elastic prison and frame her beautiful face. She would blow it out of her eyes in annoyance and he would watch her try to tuck it behind her ear time and time again.

 

Spike could never pin down why it was so entrancing. His love of those curls reminded him of Cecily in a purely physical way. Hermione was so far beyond Cecily it couldn't be measured even in light years. He watched as she tried one more time to get the offending strand out of her eyes. She'd put it up with two wooden sticks today and it was proving more amusing a fight than usual.

 

"What?" she finally asked after looking up from her reading to find him smiling absently at her. "What is so interesting?"

 

"Nothing, love," he said noncommittally, and picked up his book as well.

 

"You know, you'd get more reading done if you actually kept your face in that book," Hermione said bossily.

 

"Where's the fun in that?" he asked with a smirk.

 

"I'd think you'd be more serious about this. We have an apocalypse to fight..." she said in a clipped tone.

 

"Just like last week and the week before," Spike mused.

 

"... and we need to find out how to stop it before tomorrow," she continued as if he'd said nothing.

 

"Just like last week and the week before," Spike repeated.

 

"You know, that's quite infuriating," Hermione said, pushing her chair out and taking her book back. When she returned with a new, meaning older and bigger, book. She sat down, tilted her head and looked at him. "If you hate reading so much why don't you go patrol with Dawn and Xander?"

 

He was a puzzle to be put together and the pieces where changing as she tried to pop them into place. Every time she thought she had him all figured out he would do something or say something to throw the puzzle out of alignment. He would complain the entire time, but he was at every single research session and it baffled her to no end.

 

Spike gave her a look like he'd just eaten urine covered pretzels and looked back into his book. He pretended to read as she dove into her new text. It was amazing to him that she never got tired, never once went cross-eyed reading book after book. They'd been at it for six solid hours and had found nearly nothing.

 

"We're never going to find anything on this demon in these books," Spike said in faux exasperation as he loudly shut his book.

 

"Spike! That book is over six hundred years old!" she squeaked watching the dust fly every which way.

 

Spike rolled his eyes before walking away from the table and heading toward the door. "I'm going out for a smoke. Try not to choke on the dust 'til I get back," he said as he smirked and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket.

 

Hermione huffed frustratedly and watched him walk outside. She swore he sat in his chair trying to think of things that would drive her mad. She was finding it more and more difficult to tune him out. He would say something and she'd look up at him. He'd stare at her amused that she'd very obviously not been listening. He'd smirk and therein lay the problem with researching with Spike. It was that blasted smirk she couldn't get beyond. Hermione would look at the words on the page and every time she closed her eyes, she would see the smirk.

 

The same problem was plaguing this session. He was forever laughing at her and it was like he found every annoying habit she had very amusing. If he could stop smiling at her for just one minute everything would be just fine. She'd finally managed to start reading once again when he pushed Xander's apartment door open and stepped inside.

 

"It's freezing outside," he said, brushing snow off his shoulders and out of his ungelled blonde hair.

 

"Imagine that," Hermione teased. "Cold in England in February? Now that's just crazy talk," she continued sounding too much like Dawn for Spike's comfort.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow and decided to take his coat off as the snow melted and slid off it in drops. It needed to dry off before Xander came home. The one-eyed-wonder would never let him live it down if Spike ruined the hardwood floors that covered the small apartment he shared with the two of them.

 

Hermione could feel the red rising to her cheeks. She was grateful to Spike's coat so she could have a moment to collect her senses. By the time he'd hung up his leather jacket and put a few towels underneath it, she was back to her book, happily reading.

 

"You ever come up for air?" Spike asked, dropping back down into his seat.

 

"So says the vampire," Hermione answered, still not looking up from her book on the table.

 

"Cute," he said and leaned back in his chair. He balanced on two legs and stared at her unabashedly not even pretending to be reading his book. He watched her try not to be affected by his gaze but the beating of her heart and the rushing of blood in her veins was telling a different story.

 

Hermione licked her lips nervously as she read the exact same sentence for the fifth time. How could someone sit and look at someone for this long without being worried that they'd look up. She tried her theory by lifting the book into her lap and peeking around her it. When their glances crossed, Spike smiled and continued looking at her. She directed her attention to the words for the sixth time with exactly the same level of comprehension. Frustrated at not being able to concentrate, Hermione finally gave up.

 

"Problem?" Spike asked innocently when she closed the book and put it back on the table. She had a scowl on her face that would have caused Harry and Ron to back away slowly so she wouldn't see them. To Spike, it was endlessly amusing.

 

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked angrily, even more frustrated by his smile.

 

"Not staring, just looking," Spike answered.

 

"Fine. Why are you looking at me?" she reiterated.

"No reason. Nothing to do here," he lied.

 

"You could help me read through these," she said, indicating the large stack of books on her desk. "You could help Xander or Dawn with the patrolling," she continued.

 

"How is that fun exactly?" Spike asked, his eyebrow raised, feet still balanced on the desk.

 

"We're working here," she explained uselessly, as she rose once again to get another book from the stack. "In case you're not aware, work is something people do sometimes."

 

"Working?," Spike said, squinting his eyes as if he were trying to remember something from his long distant past. Shrugging his shoulders he finally gave up, "Nope, it doesn't ring a bell."

 

"You are the most exasperating person!" Hermione said before setting down all the books she'd been carrying. "I'm going to make myself some tea and then you are going to disappear for long enough to let me find out how to fight this demon."

 

"Disappear?" Spike said. "As in you're going to make me?"

 

"If I have to," Hermione threatened as she walked from the dining area into the kitchen.

 

Spike heard her making all of the usual noises as she poured water into the kettle to make tea. As she opened the cabinet to pull down a cup, he got up to join her. When she made death eyes at him, he ignored her, grabbing a mug for himself. He opened the drawer next to the sink and pulled out two spoons, handing her one.

 

"Thanks," she said begrudgingly as she pulled down the box of breakfast tea she'd brought from home for these research sessions. Scooping some tea into the mesh ball, Hermione dropped it into the teapot, and waited for the water to finish boiling. When she turned to get the cream from the refrigerator, Spike was standing in her way. "Excuse me," she said politely.

"What do you need?" Spike asked as they tried to navigate in the tiny, crowded kitchen.

 

"Cream," she said, curious as to why he wouldn't just move. If he'd wanted tea, he could have just asked for some from the other room instead of getting in her way. Of course, she probably would have just hexed him for asking, but that was not the point.

 

Spike opened the door and pulled out the small carton of cream. "Anything else?" he asked, not oblivious to her frustration. He could see her hands twitching like she wanted nothing more than to have him out of her way so she could do it all herself.

 

"No thank you," she said in her frustrated, yet civil tone. Sincerely, why was this man always in her way? He wouldn't help Xander or Dawn, but he had absolutely no problem sitting in the apartment driving her insane with his idiotic questions and annoying habits.

 

"Sugar?" he asked, grabbing the sugar bowl for himself and dropping two cubes into his empty cup. At her nod, he passed the bowl to her and watched her put one next to her cup. She liked to watch it dissolve in her tea, Spike knew, and pouring the tea over it made it happen too quickly. She even waited to put the cream in until the sugar cube was completely dispersed.

 

When the kettle began to boil and before it had even had the chance to whistle, Hermione pulled it off the stove and turned off the burner. She felt, more than saw, Spike watching her perform the motions of making tea. She tried to contain the confusion, irritation, and aggravation rushing through her. She'd grown over the last ten years and, had Spike not been a vampire, no one would have been the wiser.

 

"Something wrong, Hermione?" Spike asked with a faux innocent tone. He could hear the blood rushing in her ears like they were his own. She was ready to burst and he so loved to see her get angry. She was never lovelier than when she was yelling at someone even if it happened to be him, which was more often than not the case.

 

Internally Hermione was counting to ten as she waited for the tea to steep; externally she smiled and shook her head. Afraid that if she spoke she would lose her composure, Hermione mentally sewed her mouth shut. She dunked the tea ball one last time and laid it on the extra plate she'd taken out.

 

"Are you sure you're all right?" Spike asked again, knowing she was holding on by the thinnest of strings. Under the guise of taking the cream, Spike intentionally bumped her elbow as she was pouring her tea. That was enough to do it.

 

Hermione spilled hot tea all over her hand and it cut the imaginary thread that had been holding her mouth shut. She turned and began to yell at Spike for every single thing he'd done to bother her in the last two weeks. It was as if she'd been keeping a mental list for just such an occasion and was finally bringing it out now.

 

Spike was having a very difficult time holding back the chuckle building in his chest. Some of the things she was saying were absolutely ridiculous. She had actually accused him of excessive smiling while she was researching. Her face was red and her hands were thrown up in exasperation as she went from one point to another. He watched as her hair seemed to shake free from the hair sticks and he had to fight pulling her close and kissing her. The fights they had were the closest he could get to that particular vision. She looked at him most days like he was an annoying bug flying around her as she tried to get real work done, but when they fought it was as if that stuffy exterior was just a costume she wore to convince the rest of the world.

 

As Hermione started to calm down, the list of qualities she found repellent in Spike did not stop, but she did notice that he was looking at her like she was the most amusing and interesting thing he'd ever seen. She saw his eyes dart from her lips to her eyes to her hair in rapid succession. She had no idea what he could possibly be looking at. Her hair was falling into her eyes, yet again, and she had no makeup on to speak of.

 

"What are you looking at?" she finally yelled, in echo of their earlier conversation.

 

"Nothing," Spike answered lamely.

 

"Stop staring at me and stop getting in my way and stop being so bothersome when I'm researching. You're like a child," Hermione charged.

 

"Can't," Spike said, honestly.

 

"Can't stop being bothersome?" Hermione said as her curls fell into her face. Pushing them aside, she continued, "I highly doubt that. You're what, nearly two hundred years old, I should think you would have figured it out by now."

 

"Can't stop staring," he said before finally grabbing her arms and kissing her. She'd gasped when he'd pulled her body toward him, allowing him deepen the kiss from the beginning. When she didn't fight him, he was surprised but pleased. When he was sure she wouldn't run away, he moved his hands from her arms to her hair, the hair that had started the whole thing for him in the first place. He pulled the two straining sticks from her curls and let them fall to the ground. He felt the tension she'd built up from the fight finally begin to release as she put more of herself into the kiss.

 

Hermione was shocked to put it very mildly. There'd always been a nagging voice in the back of her head reminding her that men were still boys pulling the hair of the girl they liked. Spike spent more time nagging her than any other singular activity. She should have known. She silently congratulated the voice as her body started to mold itself to his. He felt so good against her fingers as she ran one hand under his shirt and touched his skin for the first time. Needing to come up for air, Hermione pushed his chest and broke the kiss. Gliding her hand up his body to his face, she slid her fingers along his jaw as she gasped for breath.

 

"Wow," she said as she tried to process what had just happened.

 

"Wow is right," he said panting with unneeded breaths.

 

"Where did that come from?" she asked before lightly kissing him.

 

Spike wrapped a curl around his finger and smirked in the way that made impossible for Hermione to think properly. "I think it's something to do with the hair and everything to do with you."

 

THE END


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